


The moment of truth in your lies

by Aoshika_October



Category: Venom (Comics), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Temporary Character Death, Codependency, Eddie Brock Loves Venom Symbiote, Emotional Manipulation, Interrogation, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Paranoia, Venom Symbiote Loves Eddie Brock, symbrock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 22:03:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19798687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoshika_October/pseuds/Aoshika_October
Summary: I feel cold, and alone, and they keep asking."What did it feel like?"What."Being Venom."It felt right.After the rocket explosion, Eddie is taken and interrogated by a psychiatrist in order to blame him for Drake's death. Eddie can't blame himself.Because blaming himself means blaming Venom.





	The moment of truth in your lies

He keeps asking questions I don’t know for the love of god how to answer, because none of them make sense to me.

“Let’s do this again Eddie, I want to understand. What happened?”

He already knows what happened, Drake’s rocket exploded, I was there, and nothing else.

Drake’s dead, I am not, and that’s what he can’t understand or accept.

“What about that weird, black substance?”

He has videos. He already knows most of it. He just wants me to talk and somehow make me seem like the bad guy of the story. What else do I have for me anyway? They’re gone. I’m alone and nothing else in the whole world makes sense to me anymore. I feel like a big chunk from my body’s been teared apart from me. I feel cold, stiff, pained and incomplete, and he just keeps asking.

“What was it, Eddie?”

We were Venom. And I was theirs.

“What do you mean?”

We were strong together. We were everything. We were complete.

“Was it alive, Eddie? Did it…talk to you?”

They were alive. I was theirs. We were Venom.

“Venom? Was that its name?” Yeah. “Did you give it that name?”

No! they were their own being, they were Venom and when we were together we were Venom also.

“We found some reports at the hospital. Your friend, Dr. Lewis, gave them to us in exchange of us not to harm you. That thing was eating you. Consuming you alive.”

No. They could fix it. They fixed it.

“Why do you keep defending that awful thing? You just need to admit it. You were scared. You were being manipulated, used, controlled by that thing and it wanted to kill Drake”.

That’s not true. Drake was crazy and had an even more deadly and crazy alien up his ass too. At least Venom didn’t want to destroy earth anymore.

“Eddie. Eddie, look, we want you to be safe. You will not be judged or be treated like a criminal, you will receive medical attention and a good insurance, but you need to admit it and sign your confession".

Lies. All lies. He wants me to surrender, He wants me to blame myself and I can’t, I just can’t because is not true. Because blaming myself is blaming Venom, and Venom were good, they were strong and they wanted to do the right thing.

He sighs and I try to concentrate on my body during the minutes of silence. My toes, my feet. My whole body is cold, my clothes are damp. My knees hurt. The skin on my back is raw from me smacking on the water after being parachuted by them. By Venom. Venom saved me. Not us. ME. And now, they’re gone. My head hurts like a bitch.

“Well, Eddie, you are obviously still on a state of shock. This is normal. Maybe right now is the best way for you to process things, believing that thing was good to you. That’s ok. What I fear is that you will be scared later, when you have the opportunity to reflect in all of this and recognize what “Venom” was really doing to you. I do not want that to happen, your mental state should not suffer more. I want us to work on it before it escalates. I am here to help you. But I need you to admit it”.

I won’t. He keeps asking. He keeps offering me help I don’t want nor need. I want him gone. I want to be alone. I am alone in a room. It looks like a hospital room. It feels like a cell.

.

.

.

Next day he keeps asking.

“Their skin was… black. Was it skin, really, or just a weird chemical thing? Were their eyes… let me see my notes… red?”

No! Their eyes were WHITE!

“What did it feel like?”

What.

“Being Venom, as you say”.

It felt right.

“Anything else? Was it… painful, Eddie? Was it weird? Sticky, gritty? Cold? Suffocating?”

It felt… It felt warm. Soft. Freeing, light. It felt powerful.

“Did it feel…arousing?”

I keep my lips pressed. There's other people in the room, I hear them talk between them. They think I am a freak, a monster. In love with the picture of a being that only talked to me in my head and was killing me from the inside out.

Venom. Venom, please.

“I am sorry, Eddie. I wish you’d allowed us to help you”.

I’m being taken, taken away and all I can do is fight them, despite knowing I’m nothing against them. I’m trown at the back of a van and I want to sob.

**Do not cry, Eddie.**

Venom?

**We are weak. But still alive. We are together.**

As the van starts its march I feel their tendrils sneak up my hands, my wrists. Their mass covers my arms and wrap around my hips and my waist. They cross my chest and clings to my back. They dry my cheeks, take away my tears. They caress my skin. Play with my hair. Their possessiveness gives me a sense of safeness, of reaching home at last. 

We are together, my darling.

**My love. We are still us. Let us fight.**

I don't know if this is real. Maybe he was right. Maybe Venom will eat me from the inside out. Maybe they will consume me, take advantage of my delusion, of my stupid, worshipping and hopeless love for them. 

A mental breakdown caused by depression and excessive stress? Maybe. Is Venom the perfect sadist my masochist psyche was waiting for, to keep on fucking up itself? Most surely. But hear me out, here's the thing:

I don't care. I don't fucking care anymore.

Still, I don’t know if we are strong enough. 

**Strong enough now. At least, to escape. We need to escape, to get as far away as we can, to eat and to rest in order to recover completely.**

Images of my old, disastrous apartment cross my mind and I remember it as the coziest place in the world. I long to be there. I long to bury myself in my dusty, warm and soft bed sheets with my arms full of my beloved space goo. In all the images, there's them, with their black, warm mass spreading on my skin. Caressing my face. Taking their home into my guts.

Schizophrenic? It's a possibility. I don't mind.

**We will be there. If you are ready.**

Ready to burst through the van’s back doors. To run and to fight, if needed. The promise of our togetherness nourishes me enough to allow myself to try.

We are ready.

Mask?

**Copy.**

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this little fic? Drabble? with the intention of practicing my english, since I'm not very fluent yet. It came to me because I randomly thought the phrase "No, their eyes were WHITE", while I was driving home this afternoon.  
> I was also thinking about how therapists, psychologists and psychiatrist are often described as these egocentric people who don't understand their patient's feelings. As a psychologist AND a patient myself, I've seen both sides. I tried to think about how Eddie would react to this kind of interrogation. Since it is his POV, he doesn't understand that maybe, just maybe, the guy was only doing his job, and trying to help him. I am aware that this fic does not represent what a therapeutical session is in reality, but that's the idea. I'm trying to show how a paranoid patient would see it.   
> Oh well.  
> I hope you liked it. If you have any suggestions for me to improve anything, I would appreciate it.
> 
> Thanks!


End file.
